


Thoughtless

by kanadka



Category: Babylon 5
Genre: F/F, Treat
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2019-02-15
Updated: 2019-02-15
Packaged: 2019-10-29 01:15:37
Rating: Teen And Up Audiences
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 1
Words: 1,108
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/17798321
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/kanadka/pseuds/kanadka
Summary: Lochley runs into a lot of people in Downbelow. Here's one of them.





	Thoughtless

**Author's Note:**

  * For [janetcarter](https://archiveofourown.org/users/janetcarter/gifts).



There's a woman Lochley sees all the time in the Krollo. The woman, and Lochley, tend to patronise it only in mid-afternoons, when Lochley's not on duty for the day shift. Lochley's without the protection - or mask - of her uniform, in a tank top and jeans.

The Krollo is useful sometimes for work - it means 'business lounge' in one of the Brakiri tongues. It's a cafe and entertainment house that takes on a far seedier quality in Brown Sector at night. But in the afternoon, the worst thing that happens is the waiter whisks away your latte before you're actually done with it in the hopes it'll get you gone and put another butt in your seat (which means another order taken during a slow off-hour shift). Expediency means more items purchased. Little retail tips and tricks to bleed as much money as you can out of a thankless existence. She can't really blame them.

This woman has a really familiar face, but where from, Lochley can't place it. There's too many people she sees all the time. One of the telepaths, maybe? All of the telepaths in Byron's group had long hair. Often went around dressed in black. This woman is long-haired and blonde, but she dresses in overalls and a loose sweatshirt, patterned burgundy and hunter green houndstooth.

 _If you are a telepath_ , thinks Lochley, as hard as she can, _I think you're really pretty, and I'd take you out. To a nicer place than this, if you wanted. But you don't seem like the kind who would want. I think that makes me like you more._

There's no reaction.

 _I'd take you to the observation deck and kiss you under the stars._  She would, too. It's not just to try and ferret out a reaction. Now she's intrigued.

No reaction.

 _There's a bench in the observation deck, too. I'd lay you down. You_ are _my type,_  she thinks. _I'd tuck your hair back behind your ears and I'd kiss your neck._  It's swan-like, graceful. There's a mark on it that could be dirt. Lochley imagines a love-bite. She lets her thoughts get a little more X-rated.

No reaction.

Well, if she is a telepath, she's very good at hiding it. Probably not one of the group, then. Could be anybody else. Babylon 5 holds a quarter of a million people. A hundred and fifty thousand roam around in Downbelow. That's sixty percent, hanging out in not exactly the choicest conditions. Doing what? Myriad things, maybe. This and that. Sometimes nothing. Sometimes nothing _good_. You have to work to survive and sometimes you just survive, and it's always been that way, in the Earth Alliance.

\--

The next time Lochley arrives at the Krollo, it's on duty, with her uniform on, and she's followed a trail to what she hopes isn't a dead end. The woman is waiting for her. "Hello, Captain," she says. "I heard you need my help."

"You," Lochley blurts. "Ah - I don't - see why I would. I'm looking for a Mister Sukta. He's overdue on his rent." And he's usually spotted hanging out at the Krollo after hours trying to win enough to afford it. He's a card sharp and he's _good_ , and one of these days someone nasty is going to kneecap him for it after losing too many credits.

The woman nods. "Yeah. I know him," she says. "He doesn't live there anymore. He's bunking with a friend."

Because he couldn't afford the rent where he was, thinks Lochley, understanding. "I see."

"He's still got the bill to pay for it, though, doesn't he," the woman supplies. She folds her arms over her chest, and glares pointedly at the shiny E of the Earthforce pin Lochley wears.

Lochley straightens, preparing to stand her guard against an adversary, because it's an adversarial move this woman has chosen, to play this card. "No," she says, defiant. "If he's not there, he's not there."

Lochley doesn't need to read minds to hear the _really!_  in the woman's mind as she raises a fine blonde eyebrow. "Well, you can be the one to tell his landlord that," she says. "I'm sure he'll be happy to have the place free to rent to someone else. _After_  he jacks up the price yet again."

Lochley laughs, derisive. The woman is as they say right on the money. It's not one of the favourite parts of Lochley's job. She turns to leave - that was all the business she had - but pauses. "You don't have to answer, but. Can I ask how you know him, Ms -"

"Foreman," says the woman. "And union rep. And it's Connally. Giri's one of my offloaders in the docks. Passenger luggage."

"Right," says Lochley. "Of course. Now I remember you. You're in the bays, you direct people."

"You don't recognise me out of my uniform?" says Connally. "Forgot that workers are people too?"

Of course not. "Your yelling voice is so different from your calm voice," says Lochley instead. "But I recognise you. You've been coming here for months. Afternoons, mostly. You order a hot jarkan with extra cream. By the way, you should try it with a shot of vhojo." Very common in mining sectors. Another off-hand remark or thought to try and gauge her reaction.

Connally narrows her eyes, thrown off. "You're from the colonies too," she says.

A-ha! Lochley shakes her head. "Earth. Some places on Earth just look a lot like the colonies."

Sure. The bad places. Connally doesn't say it, but Lochley can tell she's thinking it. "Well," says Connally, "I'm sure duty calls - yours, anyway. By the way, Captain - I'm not a telepath myself, but just so you know, I have friends who are."

"Oh, do you," says Lochley, blandly. She wonders whether Giri Sukta's prowess stems from card-counting or other abilities. Psi Corps regulations forbids gambling for exactly this reason. "I guess we have that in common."

"Yeah," says Connally. She gives Lochley a scrutinising look. "So I've heard. You're not like the other two were." The scrutinising look turns into a self-effacing, nearly shy smile. "I like it."

"Ah, thank you?" says Lochley.

"It's a compliment," says Connally. "You _get_  this place better than they did. I don't mean Babylon 5 as a whole - I mean Downbelow. There's more people down here than there are in the nicer parts. It operates on different rules. It's always been that way." Lochley nods her understanding. "Anyway. You might want to watch what you think." Connally grins. "Or you could show me that observation deck, sometime."

Lochley has never watched what she thought, and isn't likely to start now.


End file.
